


The Last Light Keeper

by magicalsalamander



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, BTS fluff, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fanfic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gargoyle Park Jimin, Heavy Angst, Jimin angst, Kpop fanfic, Light Angst, Light Horror, Mythical Beings & Creatures, POV Female Character, POV Original Character, POV Second Person, Romance, Scary, Spirit Guides, Spirits, Thriller, bts - Freeform, bts angst, bts fanfic, bts imagines, bts oneshot, bts scenarios, jimin fluff, kpop imagines - Freeform, kpop scenarios, kpop supernatural au, park jimin - Freeform, supernatural creature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 21:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalsalamander/pseuds/magicalsalamander
Summary: A century ago the islands thrived with life and resources, but the minors became greedy and drained the island of its riches. When everyone left, you, a light spirit, were left behind to continue protecting the light in the lighthouse. The lone church that was on the edge of the twin, just across from your lighthouse, held a folklore that the children would whisper about. The story goes that the Gargoyle that protects the church–oh, he was viscous one, and if you were to encounter him, dare it be against your luck to happen at night, you’d better count your last blessing.Was the folklore just a story meant to incite fear in children?





	The Last Light Keeper

The long blades of wild grass rustled in waves on the windy hills of the island as they’ve been left untamed for over a century. White waves crashed against the boulders spraying the side of the red and white tower with salt water. The light house sits at the edge of the island guarding the homes that only shelter the howling wind. Yellow tattered curtains flutter through open windows and dance against the crystal blue sky in their never-to-be-closed freedom. The red and white spiral seems like a never-ending illusion as they trail up sixty feet to a wooden gallery deck topped by the lantern room.

My feet were lounging on the railing as I lazily hummed a song. I run my hands through my hair and stretched my spine like a cat to dispel any stress from remaining in an unmoved position for God knows how long. I blinked my eyes open and squint to gaze at the yolk sun setting on the horizon. I could never get tired of the view; a hundred and twenty-five years of gazing and its still the most beautiful sights I’ve seen.

I propped my feet on the warm, wooden railing and push off sending my chair tipping back. I nearly reach breaking point then reverse the direction by leaning forward gaining traction. Gravity takes over and when the legs clap back on the deck I flew up with the momentum to stick the landing like a true chair Olympian. I giggled at my own shenanigans, as I stepped up to the railing to lean far out, stretching my upper half past feeling the crisp breeze on my skin.

Whales breached the still ocean spouting geysers of shimmering water. The colossal creatures jumped and twisted landing on their side while others slammed their tails on the water. A rainbow was left behind for a brief second, it refracted the sunset in an array of oranges, purples and pinks. I propped my chin on knuckles and smiled like a fool at those gentle giants. Moments like this remind me of when my cousins back on the mainland use to send letters of envy about my paradise.

I turned to watch the island just a few miles west, the twin to this island. The people that used to live there left as well. The abandoned homes were just as empty, and I was the only one keeping over the two.

I am the Last Light Keeper.

Two hundred years ago, the two islands used to be coal mining hotspots. They were full of promises and new beginnings for anyone who ventured to the islands. As people trickled in a small town on each island was constructed so the families and workers could live on the island.

The Luciano’s were a small family consisting of a son, the son’s wife and his elderly parents. The islands were protected by the military who protected the cargo ships that transported the coal back to the mainland. The son was a member of the coast guard and was given the opportunity to maintain the military owned lighthouse on the island. He persuaded his wife and parents to take up a quaint life on the island. He thought it would be a great chance for them to start somewhere new after the war, the mainland was still rebuilding after all.

The night before the family embarked for the islands the elderly father visited a spiritual shop to seek the ancient priestess for protection for his family. The shop was filled with potions, talismans, crystals and the ceiling had a myriad of exotic lanterns of all sizes, shapes and colors. After hearing the old man’s request the priestess had the elderly man choose a lantern. She wouldn’t pick one out for him, but his soul would lead him to the right one.

The lanterns blinked and glowed dreamy hues as he walked passed. The cages were carefully crafted by a skilled blacksmith and each one was so different from the last. Magic was sizzling through air and each lantern brought about a different emotion. A particularly feisty one appeared to have lightening striking within its glass confinement.

He kept passing over dozens upon dozens, they didn’t speak to his soul. He crossed his hands behind his back as he carefully mulled through them. Suddenly he felt a pulse within him and his feet came to a stop by force. He looked around and followed the pulsing feeling. He pushed aside the lanterns until he found the lantern calling to him. It was an average looking lantern, but the lantern was anything but average though when he took a closer look. The bronze lantern had frosted windows. The humming light glowing within was the same welcoming orange Autumn offered, but it was also like daylight in the Summer.

His wrinkly, calloused hand grazed the metal of the lantern it blinked, and he smiled, “Please watch over us.” The lantern glowed strongly like a summer’s night star against the midnight sky.

He found his soul guiders, he found my parents.

We are spirits of light, or light fairies as the modern spiritualist say. Light spirits are polyps from the Sun Goddess that are to protect the light that fuels the world in her place. The lantern was our home, and by destiny we served as protectors for the Luciano’s and the lighthouse.

I was born fifty years after the Luciano’s first arrived to the lighthouse with my parents. We’ve loyally served the Luciano’s and we’ve been passed down through the generations protecting the light in the lighthouse. The grandfather and grandmother passed away decades ago. The son and his wife had a daughter two years arriving. The daughter grew up then had a munchkin of her own with a humble minor from the town. They always made their offerings and prayed to the Sun Goddess and in return we kept their light steadily burning.

The small town was enormously prosperous, and minors always had work. The small families gained riches beyond belief as they worked the mines. Small, humble homes sprouted into multi-story homes with fine china as décor. The small towns grew to the edge of the shores.

However, where there is money, there is greed.

After seventy years of continuous mining, the islands were reaped bone dry of its coal. The families that lived on the islands began to move out and those minors that remained were forced to switch professions to fishing, or farming. The mine caves howled in loneliness when its workers never came back.

After a few decades of poor practice, the soil and sea couldn’t keep up with the greed. There wasn’t enough to keep food on the table instead of turning it for profit. The people drained the islands of its coal, fertile soil and ocean life. Each night the islands would grow darker, but a lighthouse’s use never ceases. Days and months, then a year went by and each day it would bring more ships.

On a windy night the Luciano’s received word that the last boat coming to the islands would leaving for the mainland. The elderly son slammed the door in the messenger’s face. His calm wife opened the door back up and apologized, “Hold a boat for us.”

The elderly son was furious, “I’m not leaving. My parents are buried here! Our life is still here!”

The wife shooed away the messenger boy, she’d handle her husband. After debating the elderly son crumbled to reality. It was time to return to the mainland. They didn’t have much time to pack so they gathered anything they could fit into a few suitcases. The elderly son shouted to his granddaughter, “Sunshine, take the lantern! We can’t forget the lantern!”

Hearing the shout my parents panicked at the split-second decision. “We have to go!” My father pulled my mother along and they flew towards the lantern at the same time as the granddaughter waddled over to the mantle. My father ripped the lantern door open and they made it inside just in time before the toddler snatched it.

The granddaughter tightly wrapped the lantern in her arms. She shouted proudly to her grandfather with a big, goofy smile,“ Papa Lulu! I got it!”

The elderly wife picked her up and placed a shawl over them both, “Good, now keep it safe okay.” The granddaughter nodded and then the two sped down the eight flights of stairs to the entrance where the rest of the family was waiting with three suitcases.

The elderly son looked up the spiral staircase for the last time, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to protect you anymore.” He puts on his father’s paperboy hat and locked the door for the last time.

It was my first-time taking care of the light in the lantern room. I was watching the sunset and the passing boats. A large barge was anchored off shore with smaller boats going back and forth from it to the shore. I felt proud that I was making sure those boats were traveling safely. I had been training for years—my whole life really—and finally I had been trusted to keep the light burning all on my own.

I had been so lost in my own world I didn’t hear all the ruckus going on downstairs until I felt the rumbling of the large, steel latch sliding over the entrance door. I ran up to the window and watched as the Lucianos made their way down the grassy path towards the shore. And…the lantern was lighting the way for them! My tiny wings fluttered like a hummingbird’s as they got closer to the shore to the small boats that others were boarding. I looked closer at the lantern to see if my parents were inside and I faintly recognized flickering lights moving about like fireflies within the frosted cage. I’m being left behind!

My mind was moving a million miles per hour. I banged on the window to get their attention, but it was useless. I had to escape the lighthouse and get home! I couldn’t escape through the entrance anymore, and all the windows must be closed…except for the vent! The vent was really an awning window that prevented fogging in the lens. I stepped back and revved myself up, wings twitching before I took a deep breath and held it for courage. I ran straight into the vent with all my might. The thick coats of paint on the wood pane acted like a seal. The first slamming did nothing to budge it open. I was just nearing six inches tall. I kept pushing, fighting, and screamed with all my might to open the vent. I had to go with them, I had to be with my family!

It slowly trudged open centimeter by centimeter. Tears were building in the corners of my eyes, frustrated with limitations, screaming for an escape. I could feel whispers of the outside air! I was so close to an escape! I took in a deep breath and then pushed with all my might, flapping my wings for that extra thrust and the window creaked in protest. With a crack the sealant broke and I stumbled out the window falling a meter onto the viewing deck. I slammed onto the dense, wooden planks landing on my side. I grunted upon impact, my shoulder throbbed immensely. It was definitely bruised but I’m sure my whole body would be at this point.

I was still too young—only twenty-five, which is infantile for the average six-hundred-year lifespan. A fairy’s wings fully grow in when we turn seventy-five, the age when we become a fully-grown adult and span all the way down to the ankles. My wings may be small expanding from my shoulders to hips, but they fluttered none-the-less.

The sudden drop in temperature compared to the lantern room sent shivers up my spine and my wings trembled like a leaf. I crawled over towards the edge looked over the deck seeing dark ocean. If I flew I could be able to catch up in time. The barge blared its horn and I knew I had to hurry. I shakily stood up and used the railing as a clutch. My dress and hair flowed around chaotically because of the excessive wind. My wings weren’t able to erect themselves in the weather, they were still solidifying cartilage.

Despite my body aching from the fall, I took a deep breath and focused on the Sun and ran towards the abyssal edge. It was now or never. The moment my foot lunged off the edge the darkness embraced me. My wings struggled to expand and catch flight, I whispered to myself, “Please work, please work, please work!” It felt like I was falling for an eternity, but the sharp rocks below told me otherwise as they were getting closer and closer. I squeezed my eyes shut preparing for the worst and tried one last time and spread my wings. I stretched out my arms, “Please!”

I felt the sudden jerk up as my wings caught flight and I swept over the sharp rocks and glided over the ocean. “Yes!” The sprits of the cold ocean water reminded me that I did in fact make it. I shouted, “I did it!”

My wings fluttered like a hummingbird’s working overtime to compensate for the underdevelopment. I banked right and flew towards the last boat on the shore. The blue tinted green grass rustled as I raced passed and I followed the curve of the mountains to the shoreline.

The Luciano’s were boarding a small, wooden boat as the navy men were loading their suitcases. The lantern sat on the edge of the boat as the grandmother passed her granddaughter to the child’s mother.

I fluttered closer as I dodged through the bodies of people and cargo. I dove between two passing bodies and my stomach lurched in my throat at the near miss. I knew people couldn’t see us, humans lose the ability to see us as they age. I could see my parents pressed up against the glass. “Mom! Dad!” My voice reached their ears and our wide eyes met, tears were streaming down their faces.

My father unlatched the door and my mother held out her hand to me, “Y/N! Grab my hand!”

My heart was beating as fast as my wings, I was so close, so close to home! My father shouted, “Come on Darling, just a little more!” It was so dark, and the only thing I could focus on was the light my parents illuminated. Their wings shimmered rapidly like mine. I could feel the warmth of their lantern; my fingertips grazed my mother’s. My mother’s hair was nearly a flame of its own much like my father’s.

I was safe, I made it home.

Suddenly I was knocked by a seaman’s hand as he grabbed onto the side of the boat to push it off shore with five other men. All the fear I was holding inside releases itself in a scream as soar through the air. I was so close. My vision blurred as I spun through the air and my fine motor skills shut off. My mother kneeled screaming my name hard enough to rip her heart strings. My father was about to jump out the lantern to catch me, but the granddaughter reached for the lantern and closed the door trapping my parents inside. She secured it in her lap hugging it tightly and smiled at her mother who embraced her tightly.

I crashed landed and skipped a few times hitting the dense, cement like grainy sand. I tumbled over my own limbs before I rolled to a stop. I groaned but I groggily got out, “Mom” I could see the hazy glow of the lantern coming from the boat as I laid in the grainy sand. Although my blurring vision could only pick up the silhouetted back of everyone as the lantern’s light was blipping. I forcefully climbed out of the wet sand and tried fluttering my dusty wings, “Mom, Dad!” When I tried fluttering my wings my back felt like it was on fire. I looked over my shoulder and saw a large piece hanging limply. The forewing was severed in half and the hindwing was jagged and fringed. I could only imagine that the other looked similar. I drugged myself into a kneeling position and cried through the metallic taste in my mouth, “Mooooom! Daaaaaad!”

I couldn’t give up, no matter the pain, I couldn’t give up. I picked up the pieces of my wings, I could give up! I tried standing up again only to stagger as wave of nausea hit me. I bit back the bile and kept my focus on the moving glow. I trudged my feet through the sand instead of walking.

I wasn’t paying attention the humongous shoe in full stride coming my way, “Let’s get back boys!” The toe of the shoe dug me out of the sand and I went flying with my broken wings. I flew limply through the air, but I kept my eyes on the glow fading away. My back slammed against the breakwaters and the silhouettes took a curtain call.

It’s been a century since and I’ve been living alone on this island. I kept the light searching in the lighthouse just in case they came back. Boats would pass by the first few years, but no one stopped at the island. A hundred years later I still kept the light going even after, I never gave up hope.

Being the only being on this island and my only predator I grew to human size. I couldn’t fly, only one wing “worked”. In the accident one of my wing had completely been severed in half and the other was more like handlebar streamers. When my wings had broke they were still underdeveloped, so they were permanently stuck in a small, crippled state. I was an adult now, a full-fledged light spirit, but my wings would bring shame to the Sun Goddess.

I stared at the twin island a bit longer transfixed on it. My eyes always found its way to the church that still sits on the edge of the island. The cawing and flapping of birds flying overhead shook me out of my thoughts. I looked up to the birds moving away from the shore to find refugee inland. I look back to the horizon and dark, grey clouds were covering the descending sun.

A storm was coming.

I pushed off the railing my bare feet still feel lingering warmth on the dry wood as I fling the door open. Preparations had to be made. I climbed up the inner stairs to the lantern tower, then climbed out the small window settling onto the window walk. Around the windows I tried pulling down the metal cage for the first panel. A storm hasn’t hit the island in a very long time, so it was hard unlatching the rusted metal. I hopped up onto the small ledge and use gravity to help yank it from its oxidized confides. I wiggle about, dangling in air and it finally budged. It still took grunting and breaking a bit of a sweat before the first window was secure. I twisted the blind wand just enough for the light to seep through the metal panes. I kept pulling the blinds until I was dripping sweat after closing all ten. The sting from the prickling salty air whipped my face as the wind was picking up. The waves were still fairly calm, but the electrolytic air was foretelling that something big was coming.

I climbed back through the small window and locked it tightly shut. I pulled the lever turning on the search light and chanted a spell over the light to guarantee its continuous shinning. I raced down the stairs and secured the windows to my room, the kitchen, and any other I could think of in the upper tower. My last measure was securing the entrance door. I latched over the large metal slabs across the door, three in total, before finally I had everything secured.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand with a sigh of relief, “There that’s—.” I was interrupted by the howling of wind coming from the top of the tower. I blinked as I felt water droplets rain down on me. I wiped it off and looked up towards the top of the spiral stairs and eight floors up water was trickling over the banister. I felt a sting as I felt a chill grip at my spine and I looked down to my feet and water was tricking in from under the entrance door.

The storm had arrived.

I heard the thundering cracking as it whipped. I looked up the dark barrel of stairs and saw the powerful surges of light flickering from the top. I left the door open on the view gallery! “God, you’re an idiot Y/n!” I accented up the stairs like fire was at my feet. Each floor had a small portal window and I pass the fifth floor’s window I was blinded by a flash of white light. A crack of thunder boomed throughout the tower like I was standing inside a gigantic bell. I flung myself to the wall and grabbed at the bricks for safety. My hair was standing on end, I may be a light spirit, but electricity was a power I was still unfamiliar with. The candle lamps on the walls faintly lighting up the cement staircase flickered and died out as a strong howl of wind descended the tower. I clung to the wall even tighter as my clothing and hair blew about. I closed my eyes counting down to three then opened them feeling calmer than before. I snap my fingers and the candles reignite their flames. The faster I make it back up and close the door, the faster I could lock myself in my room and hide under the covers.

I begin my steps back up but I sing softly to myself to distract myself form the noises of the storm. The waves were crashing against the side of the lighthouse viciously and the large waves were easily surpassing the tip of the tower. The water falling from the top of the stairs became a cascading waterfall, a cylinder of water in the center of the spiral.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunsh—INE!” Another crack of thunder cracked through the clouds. I covered my ears and continued singing in a near whisper, “…my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey.”

I made it up to the service room in record time and light up all the candles in the room with a flick of the wrist. The storm didn’t seem so daunting anymore with the familiar light. As long as I had light, I would be okay. My living room was flooded, but I’d have to deal with that later. I ran to the gallery deck and the door I had left open was swinging about chaotically, smacking against the side of the wall. I stared at the looming outside, there were no lights out there. The grumbling sky and flashes of white light up the abyssal darkness for a split second.

“You make me happy…when skies are grey,” I concentrated my energy into my hair, the tendrils took light glowing a fine light around me. I just needed to close the door and it would all be over. Lightening cracked as I stared out the door and it brought me a century. I remember looking over the edge staring at the darkness sixty feet below. My fingers trembled but I swallowed down my fear and anxiety. It was going to be alright. I stepped near the door one sturdy step at a time. I braced myself on the door frame and reached for the door. The pelting rain was harsh as it stung fiercely, I was getting drenched. The door flew away from me and slammed against the wall, “Please door, come to me.”

My fingers were turning white, straining as I pressed against the door frame tightly, I reached out for it again as the wind pushed it towards me. I grabbed the knob successfully, then the wind changed, and I was yanked with it. I was fully brought out into the storm as I swung away from the door frame. I screamed feeling a loss of gravity. My crippled wings instinctively fluttered about to compensate, but it was no use. The wooden deck whined under my weight already struggling because of the bend the wind was forcing upon it. It was hard to see as my bright hair was wetly plastered on my face. I scrambled about trying to step back inside but the door was tightly forced against the wall. I tugged but it wouldn’t budge. I cried out, “Come on door!”

Mother nature seemed to pity me for a split second, the wind slowed down enough for me to grab on again. Then it suddenly picked up again and the door swung back. In a split second I watched as the frame closed in smacked me head on, knocking me wayward as it closed. I stumbled backwards and hit the railing. The unstable railing cracked and broke against my weight and I went over. My skirt got caught on a jutting piece of the railing. I screamed as I was bunged for a moment and swung hanging by a thread. I reached and grabbed onto the deck. I dug my nails into the deck for dear life. I looked over my shoulder and saw the pointy rocks underneath me. The waves crashed violently onto the blockade and were even climbing up the side of the tower tickling my feet.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks, but I held in the retching sobs. My arms were losing tension, the old wood was unable to support my weight against the thrashing rain. The deck began to crack and the pillars holding it to the tower gave way. I screamed when the wood gave way and I swung lower hanging on a single plank of wood. The threat was eminent and real, I was going to die.

I tried fluttering my wings, but the flapping was pathetic. I kept the light in my hair going, no spell I could cast could save me. No amount of light could save me right now, but I sang softly to myself, if these were my last moments I wanted it to be full of light. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know how dear, how much I love you. So please—please, please don’t take my sunshine away.”

The plank cracked, and I went with it. Blurs of red and white passed by as I reached towards the dark sky above. I closed my eyes and surrendered, preparing for the worst. My sense of time was distorted, slow yet fast, a werido sense of suspension. Seconds later a pseudopodic wave catches me and engulfs me and sinks me under. Hitting the water felt like hitting cement paralyzing me. The rippling currents drag me around at its mercy.

Any illusion of surviving was gone, my throat burns with the building carbon dioxide. I open my mouth but my scream was trapped within the bubbles. It takes away my song and it takes away the little energy I have left to keep my hair lit up. My head was pounding furiously and every cell in my body felt like it going to explode.

However, it doesn’t feel as cold anymore. The currents don’t seem so strong anymore. It gets quieter the lower I sank.

Like a flickering candle my hair flickers out like a dying light bulb. In a last surging attempt it flickers once more and then its dark.

The waves brush up over me, pushing me farther up the shore until the calloused ocean was done with its teasing. The rain was pounding on my back like a child trying to wake their parent. I gasped and coughed up water as I came to, leaving a searing acute pain that clawed its way up my throat. The saline mixed with the taste of iron in my mouth, but I could smell the metal hovering over me like a thick cloud. The sharp rocks underneath me were no comparison to the bite in my throat. My eyes felt raw, a saline dryness that carried itself all the way down my heaving lungs.

I’m alive? I lived?

It was still very dark out. I looked around, yet nothing felt familiar or nostalgic. I slowly angled my head and caught sight of the dark lighthouse when wicked thunder cracked. I had miraculously survived, but I washed up on the other island across the way.

The other island.

I tested the strength in my arms as I tried pushing up into a seated position, but I slammed back onto the rock bed with a loud, wet smack. I grunted as the sharp rocks cut into me when I slammed back down. A shiver ran up my spine along with the cutting pain from the building anxiety. I had to go. I had to get back home. It wasn’t safe here.

I laid face down for a moment longer breathing hard because even moving subtly used up a lot of effort. The tide rushed in again picking me up and situated me again amongst the shore. I was very aware of every external sore as the salty water washed over me. It was ice cold compared to the rain; I probably was going to die of hypothermia soon if I didn’t get back. I gurgled on cold, salt water coughing it up violently.

In the newest position I was staring at the foothills, although from this point of view they seemed like ominous mountains. I couldn’t put it into words, but the hills felt like they were alive. Lightening was charging the air, but this was stronger. An energy was thrumming around me that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.

A brilliant shock of white ripped through the inky sky and struck the edge of the cliff. Rocks fell from the cliffside and plunged about forty feet into the chaotic ocean below. The same deadly light lit up the church at the top of the hill. The peaceful structure was engulfed in harrowing darkness the next second as the burning strike died. The world went quiet for a second. The sheeting rain seemed to have stopped and the clouds withheld their grumbling. That nauseating feeling intensified. I felt it crawling over me and wrap itself around me, the chilling feeling that someone—something up there—was watching me.

The seagulls taking refuge in the building flocked away in a large mass. In the monochromatic sky the gulls blackened the dark sky. The humidity began pressing down again and

With a catastrophic bang the clouds opened up with another wicked crack of lightening burning my pupils, ingraining them with the very image I had feared. At the edge of the hill in front of the church a figure stood.

It was him.

A century and a half ago I’d sneak out of the lantern on nights when I couldn’t sleep. I’d climb up to the lantern room where the son would tell stories to his daughter he would hear from the miners. He’d tell her stories until she fell asleep in his lap and he’d carry her down to her bed. I’d flutter up and perch just above his head on the lamp podium hosting the lamp. They’d always sit under the rotating lamp facing the west to get the best panoramic view, “You see the island across the way Pumpkin?”

I’d nod along with his daughter even though he wasn’t speaking to me. I always felt like he was. “The church just at the edge. Do you see it up on the cliff over there?” I’d follow his finger, wanting to sit on his shoulder, but I wasn’t allowed to physically interact with the family. They—humans—couldn’t see us, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t feel us. It would break far more rules than just what my parents had told me.

His husky voice melted me further into his story, “A very long time ago, when dragons roamed the land, they’d fly in the sky, and live freely. However, people were afraid of these dragons. They feared that the beast that breathed fire would eventually burn down their homes or hurt them.

The humans went to the dragon’s house with their fiercest fighters and told the dragon in their village to leave. The dragon felt sad that he had to leave his home, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. In fact he wanted to protect the people. He told them stories of how he protected them, but they didn’t believe him. He could only be a beast, that’s what the people said. He still refused to leave, that was his home.

The people became angry, they wanted the dragon to leave. The warrior attacked the dragon and tried to kill it. If he wouldn’t leave they’d destroy his home. They set the dragon and his home on fire, but the dragon’s head wouldn’t burn. The fiercest warrior severed the head and took the dragon’s head back to their church. They said that their god’s protection would make the dragon holy and son of god instead of a spawn of the devil. The dragon was never a bad creature or evil, but to prove himself he served the church and protected the church from true evil. The people were still afraid of beast. Other mythical creatures found in the village were caught and slayed, but pieces of them were taken back to the church and added to the head of the Dragon. The torso and tail of a griffin, another dragon’s wings, and even the legs of a centaur. When the pieces were all put together a gargoyle was born.”

The daughter’s eyes were full of curiosity, but her pupils were trembling. “In the church across the way on the other island, it’s said that the gargoyle statues around the church come alive at night. When the moon comes out the grey monsters come alive coughing, gurgling and drooling. They spread their long wings and talons as they awaken! Their wings! Oh, their wings reach far out, past my arm’s length.”

The little girl gasped, and she held her own arms out for reference. I stretched out my arms too. She gasped again in realization, “Really Dad?”

He took her arms and clasped his hands around hers and brought it back to her, “The gargoyles, they’re normally nice creatures, but,” his daughter looked up at him with hope in her eyes, “they reap creatures who are evil and terrible.” He paused taking a deep breath in, “What especially makes them angry is when kids are naughty. It makes them really angry.”

She whined, “But I’m a good girl.”

He stifled a laugh and held her tighter to him. “Before you were born, the kids on this island used to cause all kinds of problems. The parents of those children used to cry and beg their children to please behave, but they didn’t listen.

The gargoyles found out about the mischievous kids, so at night the gargoyles flew over to this island. They went to the kids home and walked on their roofs in warning. They knew the kids would heard their warning.”

He imitated the clacking of feet with his feet. “But some of the kids didn’t care about the warning, so the gargoyles came back. The giant beast crawl down the side of the wall from the rooftop. Their talons would dig into the wall leaving big holes. They’d look into the window of the kid’s bedroom and crack it open.” He imitated the sound by opening up a small window slightly, the cold came rushing in and the girl trembled for more reasons than the chill. “But if the window was too small their drool is thick and acidic, so it burned anything it’d land on. So they’d drool all over the window until it melted and they could get inside.”

When they’d get inside, they’d and snatch the kids up from their beds. They’d wrap their big claws around them and carry them away, back to the church on the cliff. Not only the kids were taken but the parents would get taken too. No one in the house of the naughty children were safe from the gargoyles.

When the gargoyles returned to the church and tear them apart just like the villagers did to dispel the evil. They pick up the pieces and circle drop the pieces of people off the cliff to the rocks below in punishment.”

The next morning people in the town would see the windows melted and the side of the wall with holes form their claws. They knew that the gargoyles took the naughty children and their family away.

The town never heard from those families again.”

I sat there on the ledge trembling, I could see the church from across the way. The gargoyle was a terrible beast. I couldn’t sleep that night. What if the gargoyles came and took me away because I had been sneaking out of bed? Then took my family away! I didn’t want to be torn apart.

The gargoyle was a terrible beast.

I nearly forgot that tale, it was merely a story meant to scare children into going behaving. However, the legend seems to run deeper than a simple folklore. Here I was confronted with the same figure I heard stories about.

The legend of the Gargoyle.

A crack of hot lightening lit up the hill and my hazy eyes caught the grotesque distortion of light. The figure moved in my direction in a crouched position.

I was asking my mind for a rational explanation, but I couldn’t blink the image away. Was it all a figure of my imagination? Had I hit my head at some point? Did I really survive? This was the afterlife…or all just a really bad nightmare?

The figure kept getting closer and closer as the lightening strobed splitting the sky. He ominously advanced in an erratic crouch and his figure grew in height and width as he got closer. The frighteningly loud sound of rock crunching and crumbling taking their plunge off the edge matched in unison with the figure’s movements in the darkness.

My energy was extremely low, and I couldn’t find the magic within to spark light. My body was tense reading itself for the fight or flight because there was nowhere to hide.

My choice between the two: fight.

I whined loudly in my short war cry. I barely fluttered my wet wings to get the extra oomph then put stress on my wrist to get up again. I’m stunted in my place as it feels like someone had reached inside me and began twisting my organs with their bare hands. I collapsed back down in pain feeling warm all over, but not in the good kind of way. The nerves in my arms were firing up in pain and it traveled back to my wings who already felt tender. I tried again using my elbows instead and prop myself on the sharp, slippery rocks. The pain shot up again in waves, but I gritted my teeth together holding back the scream.

I couldn’t do it and found myself collapsing like a newborn fowl. I was going to die. I was going to be torn to pieces, dismembered beyond recognition the tossed over the edge.

I didn’t want the creature to speed up knowing I was easy prey, so I kept my breathing slow and deep. At this point I knew my only flight choice was to get back in the ocean, but that would be death served on a platter as well.

I laid on the frigid, damp sandy rocks just hoping that dawn would come soon, that this was all a nightmare.

In my eyes the figure was only a hundred feet away. He had switched from all fours to a bipedal standing stance. Hissing and panting filled the air, but it wasn’t from me. A deep growl filled the air, and the figure was close enough for me to make out its dark silhouette. Spearing glowing, grey eyes were locked onto me and from within held my lungs hostage from taking another breath. Adrenaline was surging through my veins like a fever.

I was going to die.

“Are you okay,” a deep, husky yelled from the short distance. It was too saccharine for it have come from the figure that was so daunting. The figure continued accelerating towards me. I wanted to scream for him to get away, but the flinching caused my nerves to light up. No, no, no I had to get away! I turned on my side and propped myself up that way. My wings were completely damp, and my dress was torn like an old rag. I was completely vulnerable.

He appeared just a few feet away. Finally, I found my voice, “Don’t come closer! Stay away from me!” It came out softer than I wanted it to, but I knew I was heard when the footsteps stuttered.

He shouted, “Are you okay?” He paused, “I’m not going to hurt you! I saw something flickering on the shore. Are you hurt?”

I whined as I stubbornly tried standing up again, he sounded too nice to be true. He suddenly appeared before me, low growl and rumbling came from his being. I was a goner.

I couldn’t look into those grey eyes. Fear paralyzed my being, I couldn’t move a single muscle, but my bones were rattling within. I spat out a bit of saliva that had pulled in my mouth utterly terrified, “Please…please…please.”

He didn’t make a move. His words were definitive and stern, “You’re hurt, let me help you.”

I yelled with my head hanging low. The shout came out pathetically as a normal spoken voice, “Don’t come close!”

He canceled out my request and the cloaked figure crouched in front of me. “You’re bleeding, let me help. Please, let me help you.” He reached out cautiously towards me like how you would introduce yourself to an animal.

I didn’t trust his sweet, kind voice, I knew what he’s capable of. His hand was coming towards me and the sudden fear of him trying to touch me caused my hair to light up. It was brighter than lightening and could could burn retinas.

He squinted and covered his face with his cloak with a low, deep growl at the brightness. He instantly regretted his reaction as he slowly pulled his hand down and peeked over his forearm in curiosity. He noticed I was violently trembling. Purple bruises littered my being and random portions were smeared with blood, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The blinding light dimmed as I finally saw his face for the first time. The monster of the stone, but his face was anything but grotesque. He resembled a grey angel. His skin, hair and eyes were a monochromatic silver, but his features were gorgeous like an antique sculpture crafted by an artisan. However, his creator couldn’t help indulging in a few demonic features that belong to gargoyles. He had unnaturally pointed ears, long claws that were sharp, and thick horns that pointed upwards on his head gave way that he wasn’t an ordinary creature.

I tried scooting back and felt rain on my back. I peeked up and noticed the pseudo awning over us. He had curled his colossal wings over us to shield me from the rain. His wings reminded me of a dragon’s, leathery yet still grey like stone. The gargoyle was a large being regardless of his wings.

He bowed slightly before me, a sign that he truly meant no harm, “Please, let me help you. I just want to help you.”

We stared at one another, rain streaming down our face. His shoulders were rising and falling below his cloak. His eyes locked on mine. I looked into those eyes searching for the dangerous beast behind the angelic mask. Yet, I couldn’t find it. I saw light within him twinkle within his cinereal irises. My instincts were telling me to trust him. I couldn’t sense double intentions behind his words. There was no pitch change, no shifting of eyes, or subtle smirk. I have a feeling in the back of my mind where a voice is calling me foolish, to listen to the legend, but intuition is telling me otherwise.

“Okay,” I caved.

He sighed in relief, happy that I wasn’t flickering at him like the sky again. He carefully squatted down and approached me. He reached out and sat me up. I groaned and clutched onto his cloaked shoulders with a deathly grip. “Let go, I got you,” his voice was gentle. I hesitantly released my tight grip on his shoulders and he wrapped one hand gently around my waist supporting me. His hand was large, it took up the entirely of the small of my back. He unfastened his cloak with one hand twisting the knob revealing his toned, bare human body underneath, but his lower half was covered by loose pants. He looked at my wings with a somber face but didn’t made a direct comment about them. He twirled it off himself and placed it around me carefully.

Wings were important to his kind. Depending on the beast or animal they come from gives the gargoyle different abilities or statuses. Gargoyles with the original dragon’s blood running through them were the highest of nobility and greater the protectors. As well as the size, the larger the wings, the older the being was. Gargoyles are prideful creatures.

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up,” he turned in his crouched position and moved to drape me across his muscular back in between his wings. He lifted me up like I was light as a feather and treated me just as gently as one. He would fly back but he was afraid the unstable and rough movements could injury me further.

I expected to feel cold stone, but his skin was soft and human like. I was mindful of his wings, knowing how sensitive they can be to touch. They shivered when my body draped across his back. He briefly looked at me for consent then grabbed the back of my thighs and stood up.

As he walked up the hill towards the church, I was beginning to have second thoughts. What if he was going to throw me over the edge? What if that’s how he feeds by killing his prey by throwing them over the edge? That his gentle demeanor was all a rouse, to butter me up only to rip the rug right from under my feet. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck despite the pain it caused to move. I looked up to his horns curling above me, pointed and very sharp I’m sure. I grip onto him tightly so if he was going to cross me I was going to make it difficult. He didn’t seem to mind and tightened his hand on my thighs.

However, he diligently kept going towards the church not the eroding cliffs. It conflicted with the stories I’ve heard. Was he the gargoyle from the legends?

He reached back and pulled up the hood over my head, “Hold on, we’re almost there.”

I found myself speaking my mind, “You’re not like who I’ve heard you’re supposed to be.”

He sweetly laughed, “Who was that supposed to be?”

I felt horrible saying it out loud, “A…monster.”

Gargoyles, a creature that was never to know love and rumored to fear it.

He chuckled, “What’s your version of the story?”

I blushed, “That…that you terrorize. You climb into their windows at night and…kidnap…them.” The story sounded horrible, cruel, but what if? I mumbled, “…then you tear them up to p-pieces and throw them off the cliff…to die.”

He chuckled again, “That’s it?”

I nodded, he couldn’t see it, but he felt it.

He snickered—the gargoyle snickered. He began to explain, “We gargoyles are meant to protect, we never harm anyone unless they hurt the ones or thing we are protecting.”

His vision fades back to the memory where it all started, “A minor snuck into the church when the priest was already in bed for the night. I was perched in front of the church awakening for the night when I noticed him sneaking inside. When he made it inside I awoke and crept down the side of the wall following him inside. He directly went to the alter. I watched him from a distance, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he just wanted to pray. I watched him reach into the donating plate and then pocket the money.

I had to stop him, but I remained in the shadows hoping he runaway in fear, ‘leave it, and never return.’

I remember vividly the look of shock on his face, how the coins slipped between his fingers. He turned around and shouted, ‘who’s there?’ I stepped out form the shadows and a coin rolled to my feet.

When he realized what I was, I saw the fear drop from his face. He didn’t care that I was a Gargoyle, because he knew I’d never harm him. Gargoyles never hurt anyone, only if command by Him.

He explained there wasn’t anymore money working in the mines, he needed the money to get by. I could see in his eyes he was lying, I could smell the alcohol, drugs, and sex reeking from him. He didn’t smell like soot or coal, not even a trace of it as he claimed.

He quickly became angry when I didn’t buy into his story. He even shouted, growing hysteric. I hated resorting to fear tactics, nor did I want to hurt him and break the rules as a protector. I growled and spread my wings like a monster, finally I made him drop the money.

He left, but he didn’t leave without threats. He spread a rumor telling everyone in town that a demon lived in the church posing a Gargoyle. That this was was an evil place and if you came here you’d disappear. Eventually people started believing his words in their ignorance. The rumor grew and became something grand. Every story is different, some say I’ll eat them, some say I’d take their soul, and some tearing them apart. Whatever scares them the most.

People stopped coming to the church after a while. The priest was shamed and exiled from the church. The legend only grew because parents told their children. Then those children grew up and the story kept making it through the generations. I wasn’t a Gargoyle anymore, but a demon in everyone’s eyes.”

I felt terrible, I didn’t know. I could feel the way he spit out the word demon. “I-I’m sorry.”

He chuckled again, “I don’t blame you, I’d be cautious too. I thought I was the only one on these to islands. It scared me seeing a person on the shore.”

I raised a brow at that. He? Scared? I guess given his history with people…I can understand.

“Where are you from?” He asked.

My voice was barely there, I could feel my magical energy source draining along with my physical. “The other island. I live in the lighthouse. I’ve lived there my whole life.”

He hummed, “I’ve always wondered why the light still worked.”

I smiled and wrapped my arms tighter around his neck. He was awfully endearing for a “monster of stone”.

He briskly climbed up the muddy hill as cautiously as possible. I peeked out of from his neck and saw the outside of dark church. A crack of lightning struck next to the church illuminating the daunting building. I hid back into his shoulder and he chuckled. The church was far larger up close than I imagined. He opened the huge castle like door and we slipped inside. He walked with confidence in the darkness, I could hear the rain rolling off the cloak and dripping onto the floor. He was a creature of the night, so naturally he was able to see well in the dark. He made a few turns and made it to a room that resembled a kitchen.

He sets me down slowly against a counter cabinet on the floor carefully so his claws wouldn’t cut me. I slumped against it gently. I suddenly scream he instantly turned around to check on me. My face tenses up as my chest clenches, it felt like a heart attack, “What’s wrong! Did I hurt you? Oh, God.”

I panted through the pain. I knew this specific pain came from a certain place, “Light, I don’t have light.”

He spat, “What?”

I heaved, “I’m a light spirit, I need to protect light…if I don’t have it I die. I need to be near a light source.”

Light, oh, light-yes, a light spirit would need that. As a nocturnal light brought consequences for him. “Wait, okay, wait! Just—just-don’t die on me, okay!” I didn’t have the energy to nod, but he took off running.

The rain was pelting hard against the stain glass windows. He ran to a storage room that kept the logs for the oven. He took more necessary, but enough for a big fire. He flew back to the room, practically gliding on his feet. He took off the metal plates off the top of the stove but struggled because his claws got caught in the hook. He tossed them in frustration, when they crashed they dented a hole and remained there. He opened the hatch and tossed in plenty logs that they stuck out the top. He wanted to be sure that a fire would be maintained for the whole night. He clacked flint rocks and sparks flew onto the wood. He kept at it until a log caught fire. He backed away from the light quickly covering his face with his arm and hurried over to me, “It’ll be a minute, but it’s a fire and that makes light. You can protect my stove.”

I was to protect a stove fire? I laughed softly but it was more like wheezing. What struck me more interesting was, “You eat?”

He lowered his arm and laughed, his eyes wrinkling impossibly tight, “I usually eat things raw. Do you?” I nodded and he turned back to the stove to keep building the fire. When he was satisfied he left to grab something else. He came back with a robe that was stored in an unused dresser. “Here, change into this. We can hang your wet clothes to dry.”

I took it and thanked him. He stood there for a moment then realized, “Oh, oh, I’ll be in the hall, call me when you’re ready.”

He began walking away, “Wait!”

He turned around abruptly, his wings crashing into the table. He sputtered awkwardly held onto a table for support. “Ughhh-W-What’s wrong?”

I rubbed my thumb over the fabric and smiled. My damp wings asymmetrically fluttered under the cloak, “What’s your name?”

He relaxed and stood up with a bit of ego, he smoothed his hair back from his face, “Jimin. My name is Jimin.”

I looked him in eyes, his grey eyes staring right back, “I’m y/n.”

He smiled and walked out into the hall.

The fire was rumbling in the stove and the pain in my chest eased up to a dull pain. I could feel my energy and light source slowly being replenished. I could even the bleeding wounds mending back with a tingling sensation taking over my whole body. I tore a bit of the fabric in the back, so I could fidget my odd wings through the slits. It was a tough and painful, but I was able to slowly peel off the cloak and my wet clothes and changed into the new cloth I was given tying the knot around my waist closing the robe. There really wasn’t much to hang to dry or much left of my clothes; it might as well be used to fuel the fire.

I cleared my throat and huskily called, “Jimin?”

He came back into the room with more things, flapping his wings to brush off rainwater. He carried vegetables of all sorts in his arms.

Where had he gotten those?

He simply stated, “You need to eat.” I protested that I just needed to sleep it off and eventually the energy from the intense fire would be enough to heal me. He wasn’t having any of it, his nature wouldn’t let him, and began cutting the vegetables and tossed them into a pot he found in a cabinet. He poured water he collected from the fresh water fountain and added a few other things he must’ve gotten from his garden. The room was beginning to smell amazing.

He asked, “As long as I’ve been on this island I never knew that someone lived in the lighthouse. Much less would’ve thought a Fae lived there.” He looked over his shoulder with a smug look, “Maybe because there never were rumors of floating lights?”

I smiled and softly spoke, “I’ve lived alone for a century now in that lighthouse, waiting for them to come back.” I swallowed metallic saliva, “When everyone left the island…I was left…behind. The family that lived in the lighthouse suddenly left one night and they took our lantern with them. It was my first time watching the light…it-it was an accident, I was stuck in the tower.” I swallowed hard, “I tried catching up to them, but it was so chaotic, I tried, I really did but…in the end I lost my family and…my wings.” I fluttered my wings abstractly to emphasis my point. The movement caused me to wince when I was reminded of my other current injuries, but I kept the whine to myself. 

He doesn’t make a comment on my story; I just watched his silhouetted form as he faced the stove as he cooked. He served me a bit of soup in whatever vessel he could find, which happen to be a compressed metal cup. I thanked him for it. He watched as I take a sip to make sure I can eat on my own.

It was a bit bland compared to its fragrant smell, but it was still delicious. “This is wonderful, thank you Jimin.”

His eyes scrunched up into half moons, grey cheeks blushed rose and his wings fluttered slightly at the compliment. I giggled, for someone who seemed to terrify, his appearance wasn’t for the light-hearted despite his angelic face, he was quite the teddy bear.

He gulped down his portion of soup fast, and my eyes bulged. How could he drink something so hot so fast?

In between sips I asked, “Are you the only one here…are there any other—?” I cautiously looked around the room.

He caught my watchful eye and finished my sentence for me, “All other statues were destroyed by the towns people because of that legend. I survived because the priest heard that a mob of people were coming to destroy the church. The priest covered me and hid me in the storage room. He tried saving all of us, but he was the only one here.”

“Oh…,” I let the weight of his words weigh heavy on my heart.

He set his vessel down, “Don’t be sad. It’s all in the past.” He took my empty cup and then asked, “ How are your injuries? I know your bleeding stopped a while ago, but I know you have a few internal injuries.”

He knew? “It just hurts—a bit.”

He raised a brow at my last hesitation, “I can heal you.”

I looked at him skeptically, but he offered his hand out to mine, “Do you trust me?”

I stared into his grey eyes, searching his soul for deceit, was this the double crossing showing itself now? Yet, I still couldn’t find it, just endless warmth and kindness. I nodded and placed my hand in his, “I do.”

He gently took my hand that looked like a kitten’s paw in a bear’s. He laced our fingers together knitting us together sealing a direct connection. He closed his eyes and chanted with a deep unfamiliar voice under his breath that sounded like Latin Gregorian chant. An invisible energy traveling between our hands then up my arms easing the stinging nerves like aloe. It branched off to the rest of my being and the intense pain eased away in my spine. I felt absolutely euphoric.

As treatment went on fatigue heavily settled in my bones. The acute pain had eased and now I just felt extremely sore. He smiled as I began to slump and leaned up against him. My eyelids couldn’t fight it anymore, and I let them fall close.

It was a quick flicker, honestly, he could’ve mistaken it for the fire crackling, but this was gentle. My hair slowly lit up like a wick catching light as I relaxed into the exhaustion. It was a sugary light and the strands blinked like stars. The missing night sky was brought indoors for the night. Jimin was beginning to blame, or sympathize, with the sky, it must’ve and brought the storm, angry at me for robbing it of its brilliance.

As he was awakening to the sound of thunder that night, something within him was calling him awake. When he flexed his body something felt off. He looked out the window to the adjacent island, but the lighthouse light wasn’t on. It never was out, it always turned on like clockwork. He just felt something in his gut telling him to go outside, something was telling him something was very wrong. Then he saw me on the shore. He had to do something, regardless of how dangerous it was to go out in the storm. He knew he had to listen to the call of the Gargoyle, he had to save and protect.

I wasn’t the same ready to kill light spirit when we first met, I was sunshine in his arms.

He just picked up on the gravity of the situation, the events that had led up to this point finally aligning. Why wasn’t my light turning him to stone? Even a candle’s light would normally cause his body to slightly harden up, but I was lit, and the stove was burning bright! Yet, he was still moving just fine. He was able to freely move as if he was in complete darkness.

What was more concerning was this odd feeling that came from me. For the first time he was experiencing warmth. He furrowed his brows to keep focused on your injuries instead of this new sensation. He continued to sing even as I fell asleep against him. It was wavering though: warmth and heat. Now he knows what cold is. He is always cold if this was warmth. As a creature of the night he was banished from warmth or light. When daylight comes he becomes a statue again, but with me, he finally felt what warmth was.

He stopped transmitting energy into me, but still kept our hands interlaced. He carefully raised his other hand before the fantasy faded, he wanted to test his theory. He threaded his fingers gentle through my hair, brushing it out of my face. It shimmered through his fingers. It felt warm in his hand, he could feel the flickers of light on his face. He didn’t want to let go as the tendrils slipped through his fingers.

He felt hopeful as the feeling didn’t slip away, it was constant and comforting. It was real. He kept running his hands through my hair, learning what heat was, and the word for the first time along with the word joy. He laughed but it shook me, so he bit his lips holding back his trembles.

He kept running his hand through my hair until his hand was growing numb. healing me took out a lot of his energy. He fell asleep like that cradling me to his chest with a smile on his face. The Gargoyle saved the light.

Crepuscular rays carved through the heavy storm clouds; morning had come.

Dawn came too soon for Jimin, he knew he didn’t have much time left before he became a statue again. As he blinked awake it was difficult to wipe at his eyes as his muscles were already becoming rigor. He had the intention of flying me back before dawn, but he had slept longer than he anticipated. He had expended a lot of energy to heal me. However, a bit part of him didn’t want to leave the warmth.

He picked me up cautiously and laid me in front of the still warm stove gently, careful of my wings. He brushed them so they wouldn’t kink. When he ran his hand over them they shimmered like disturbed fireflies. He frowned despite the amusing light, they were so torn. Fairies were known for their magical wings just as much as Gargoyles were. His heart ached, but he couldn’t help me. No matter how much he could try to amend my wings with his magic, it wouldn’t work. He couldn’t mend scars like that. He placed his cloak over me then went out to find a row boat for me to make it back to the other side.

I had woken up alone somewhere different than where I fell asleep. I cracked my blurry eyes open to charcoal wood with electric orange embers still alive. I sluggishly sat up and my joints cracked as I got up. I waited for the pain, but there was none. I fluttered my wings and smiled trying it again for good measure. I chuckled and it turned into a near cynical laugh. I wiped the drool from the side of my mouth and brushed the hair out of my face. I blinked and looked at my hands, dried blood was crusted in my nails. I survived. Jimin didn’t betray me…but saved me.

Speaking of the Gargoyle, I looked around for Jimin, but each room I looked in was empty. I went out the entrance doors and squinted despite the morning light was dim. “Jimin!” I looked around for him, the ocean had calmed to a near stillness and it was so quiet. I spotted the dragon-derived Gargoyle at the shore tying up the boat to a boulder. I walked down the hillside to him and around the driftwood that had washed ashore.

He turned around when I called to him again, “Jimin.”

He tried flapping his wings happy to hear my voice, but the range was limited. His wings were hardening, and they weren’t able to flap anymore. His skin had turning lighter too, more like dry stone. “Are you feeling okay?”

I nodded as I looked at the boat behind him, and unexpectedly felt uncertain. I wasn’t so sure I want to leave. I hadn’t known Jimin for very long, hours at most, but I felt drawn to him. It was silent for a moment as we both settled on the sound of the gentle waves. His voice was husky and stiff, “You can use this boat to get back across. The ocean is calm now, so it should be okay and easy rowing.”

I didn’t want to leave, “I guess this is goodbye…thank you Jimin, for everything. I owe you my life.”

His arm wasn’t able to lift to embrace me or stop me like he wanted to. He had so much he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. “You don’t owe me anything…goodbye Y/N.”

I wanted to argue that I did but he couldn’t be out in the breaching sun. I felt it in my bones. He was turning to stone right before my eyes. He remembered something important and picked a candle he had been keeping safe on a rock and placed it in the boat, “You should get across okay if you have this.”

I smiled fondly at the candle. I got in the boat and chanted a protection spell over the candle and Jimin helped push me out into the strait. I grabbed on the oars and picked up a smooth pace easily. I was off and Jimin was shin deep in water. As I rowed towards home, loneliness sank in. I cast a look back and caught the equally somber look in Jimin’s eyes. I could let this be our last meeting. I dropped the oars in the boat and stood up the boat rocked. I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered, “Jimin, I really liked spending time with you! Let’s meet again! This shouldn’t be goodbye!”

His wings fluttered even though he was nearly stone causing small waves around him. He wasn’t sure he heard me right, “What?”

I took a deep breath and shouted louder, “Visit me at the lighthouse! I’ll be waiting for you!” I sat back down, grabbed my oars and kept sailing back. I couldn’t look back at him for a reaction, my cheeks were burning.

He stuttered for a moment shouting back, “O-Okay! I’ll see you tonight!” He wanted to jump for joy, but his stiffening body didn’t allow that. He quickly ran back up the hill and onto his podium. From his perch he watched over the girl with the hair made of light paddling her way back until he turned to stone for another day.

This time though, when he woke up he had something to look forward to.

That night Jimin flew over and latched onto the lantern’s narrow walkway with a thump and a bit of a tumble. I awoke terrified from my sleep clutching my blanket to me. The thumping turning into caustic walking from the top of the tower. I looked at the burning candle on my dresser and was reminded, “Jimin!” I tossed my blanket off me and ascended the stairs to the top of the tower into the lantern room in record time. Out the window panes I noticed a large figure hiding below the passing light, except his horns stuck out like a sore thumb. I laughed as I cracked open the small door that lead to the walk.

He popped up with his arms full of random, assorted candles he collected from around the church, “Hi.”

I sighed in relief leaning against the window, “Jimin, it’s you.”

He shyly smiled lifting his filled arms to show me he brought gifts, “I came.”

I smiled back ,”You did…you did.”

Nights were never spent apart anymore. Goodbye was a forbidden word behind us. He helped me fix the lighthouse up after the storm. Over months he helped me build a new, better deck that could withstand any storm. We took pieces from the abandoned homes and improved the lighthouse bit by bit. He even built a specific landing extension on the deck for himself.

He’d fly over to my island and go back before the sunrise; his presence became routine. I was becoming nocturnal. I changed my sleeping habits “slightly” so I wouldn’t fall asleep when we’d met up. However, as much as I’d fight it I usually ended up falling asleep and I’d wake up in my bed the next morning.

We’d often hang out on the new and improved deck and watch the stars on the deck. One night he mentioned, “Maybe I should make a podium and perch up here. I can protect the lighthouse too, you know?” He nonchalantly shrugged, “Then the seagulls wouldn’t ruin the paint on the side of the tower anymore.”

I laughed, nibbling on dinner I made from vegetables from Jimin’s garden, “So are you telling me you’re a glorified and oversized scarecrow?”

He pouted, dropping his nibbled carrot to his plate, “Geez, well when you put it that way.”

I laughed hard, his pout was too adorable for the horns sticking out of his head. In actuality, I didn’t mind. I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to be around all the time. Goodbye was taboo, but he still left in the morning. After nearly a year of creating a routine around one another it felt like he was a part of the lighthouse already. I wanted to wake up and put stuff on his statue form so when he’d wake up he’d find a surprise.

“Can I decorate you like one?” He huffed and laughed along sarcastically. He stole food off my plate in retaliation then caged his wings around him so I couldn’t get it back.

I gasped, “Jimin! That’s not fair!”

He snickered in his prison, “Sorry the scarecrow not in service at the moment, come back later.”

I sat my plate down and tackled him, a cloud of light specks coming from the impact and a loud grunt from Jimin.

That night the stars twinkled as If they were laughing along with us.

Night like these were just the usual.

Jimin landed on the deck in a crouched position wings extended and flapping to a stop. He stood up proudly and looked up at the circulating light. He perked up because I hadn’t come out to greet him like I usually did. The dramatic flinging of the door open, his name being yelled no matter how long ago I had seen him, then I’d pout with my arms open waiting for my hug. There wasn’t that. He tucked in his wings in and opened the door, “ Y/N?” When he didn’t hear an answer his pointed ears twitched. “Y/N, where are you?” He padded through the living room, but it was fairly dark except for a few candles burning. He knocked on my bedroom door, but there wasn’t a response. His biggest fear was while he was a statue that something would happen to me. He hated leaving me to alone. He went to every other room and I wasn’t there. He began internally panicking.

He flared his wings in anger, eyes deepened to a near black, had his worst fear come true. Who dared hurt his light! He ran outside extinguishing the candles in the living room as he breezed past. He sprinted off the edge of the deck spreading his wings mid-air into the inky night sky. What if I had fallen off? He searched the rocks below the lighthouse and I wasn’t there. “Y/N!” He screamed it from the top of his lungs. He dove and searched for my body on the shorelines, but there wasn’t any sign of me. He circled the tower a few times. After minutes went by his anger rose and he was ready to rip anyone apart if even an hair was hurt on my head. In his peripheral he caught a flickering light on the sandy shoreline away from the lighthouse. He instantly recognized that light and silhouette.

He banked towards the light at a cutting speed. He dove towards the shore, wings flapping to stop his fast pace. His crash landing sent sand flying to rain down. He raced over to me like a hell bound ghoul that just raised from the trenches of hell.

I had been so focused on the ocean I didn’t notice he had landed until I was showered in sand. I turned towards Jimin with the biggest grin on my face, “Jimin!”

Steam was practically rolling out of his nose, he growled out, “Y/N!”

I had my feet dug in the sand catching on to his menacing behavior, “Ji—Jimin? Wha-what’s—?” My hair pulsed nervously. I’ve never seen him look like this, “What’s wrong Jimin?”

He yelled, actual steam coming from his nose, “Why weren’t you home!”

“I was watching the…,” I tried explaining, but he cut me off.

“Why didn’t you leave a note or tell me yesterday that you weren’t going to be in the tower! You could’ve gotten hurt and I would’ve never known…or worse!”

As soon as he expressed his distress my anxiety eased, and my hair evened out to a soft glow. I laced my hand into his and pulled down the pouty but still steaming gargoyle. “Just wait for it,” I pointed towards the ocean.

He furiously looked away from me and towards the ocean. When nothing happened, he turned back to me, “Don’t play games with—.”

I shushed him by placing a finger over his mouth and took his chin in between my fingers and pointed him back towards the ocean, “Just watch.”

The waves were building and then a large wave caught momentum. When they rose, the black waves glowed an electrical blue when they crashed down. I could feel his mouth loosen in my grip on his chin. I let go and pulled my knees up to my chest. “Today is Celebra Lux.” When the tides rolled and crashed they glowed a beautiful blue each time.

I rested my head on his shoulder, “The humans used to call it the red tide, even though its blue. Humans, they have funny name for things.”

When Jimin remained silent I continued, “Every three years to celebrate Celebra Lux we take a piece of our light as an offering and send it out to the ocean. It’s how we celebrate and honor our ancestors.” I chuckled, “The legend goes that the lights guide the Sun Goddess at night when she makes her venture across Earth for the night to visit her lover, the Moon, on this special night. ”

He still looked out to the ocean. His profile was daunting with his large horns, grey skin, pointed ears and massive wings. I got up shaking the sand off me and Jimin turned to me finally making eye contact. His eyes still had a hardness them, but I smiled and grabbed his hand, careful of his claws. I tugged suggesting for him to stand. He complied and naturally towered over me. The moonlight reflected on his face illuminating his angelic face. I smudged a glob of sand off his cheek still with a smile. I pulled him along with me and a wave rushed over our feet. Jimin flinched at the cold, it made his spine shiver and he squeezed my hand tighter.

I kept going until we were ankle deep in water. I faced Jimin with my back towards the moon. He remained trusting me in my methods. I rearranged our hands so mine were clasped over his. I brought them to my chest and closed my eyes. I let the light surge through me, even my skin glowed, as I began the ritual. My chest illuminated where our hands were clasped together. I concentrated hard and began pulling our hands away from my chest, the glow from my being poured into our hands. I slowly began opening our hands and a tennis ball of light was held between our hands. I whispered out, “I’ve never seen a luzumia like this before.”

I kneeled down and released the luzumia into the water, “And light to guide you.” The ritual was finished. The other pea sized luzumia around surged when Jimin’s and mine met the water. The shoreline was a heavenly blue. I looked up and met Jimin’s surprised eyes, he looked around his feet in amazement.

“When I was young I was still developing my light, so my parents would take my hand in theirs and using the love that I had they added it to make our luzumia.” I ran my hand through the water tickling a few luzumias.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know what today was.” Jimin sputtered out. I giggled and pulled him back to shore to sit and watch the light show.

He wasn’t happy with me sitting next to him, so he pulled me in his lap and wrapped his arms around me tight. He rested his chin on my shoulder, “I didn’t realize how lonely you must’ve felt, how hard it must’ve been on you all this time.”

He was right, I wanted to tell him, but every time I brought up the subject of my parents it hurt to talk about. I didn’t know if he even wanted to do this with me, but here he is. He helped me build a luzumia…together.

I smiled and rested my hands over his. I looked up towards the Moon, “Thank you Jimin.”

Storms become more frequent and intense each time. A hurricane was in the distance passing by but it brought a nasty storm with it. The lighthouse windows shattered as a strong wind busted them despite me pulling the slates down. The shards of glass and boards of metal were vacuumed into the tower and a metal piece shot through and broke the light lens. The light within was put out in a blink of an eye.

I had been cowering in my bedroom, hiding under the covers, hoping that Jimin was safe. I felt it in my chest like a stake stabbing right through my heart as I heard glass shattering above. I crumbled and wheezed in pain. I was being suffocated by my own pain. My voice was small, “Ji—min. Jimin, help me.”

From the far distance the statue began to melt. His skin was tingling awake at the sound of his name being called. He couldn’t hear me, but his intuition knew something was off. The Gargoyle answered the call. His crouching wings flapped open to their great length. His guts were churning uncomfortably, when his whole begin awoke. He registered with a violent tremor the strong wind and how his skin was soaked. It was still in the early evening, he should still be asleep for another few hours but the sky resembled a charcoal midnight. His stomach sank when he felt the surge again, his gut was telling him it was me. Y/n! The lighthouse!

He looked towards the lighthouse and noticed the light wasn’t working. He turned towards the cold horizon and even darker clouds were rolling in. His fear was coming true.

Y/n.

He stretched out his wings and dug his claws into his podium. There wasn’t any time to waste as the nausea was getting worse, “Y/N, wait, I’m coming!” He thrusted off the podium and flew through the furious wind fighting the gradient. The rumbling waves below were foaming white over the dark espresso water. The angry waves were competitively as tall as the hills the church sat on. He dodged the waves that mountained around him. He flapped his wings faster and faster, and flew up to the lighthouse in record time. He perched on the railing and looked up at the shattered lantern room.

He stepped down onto the deck and the door was locked. He pounded on the door calling for me, but when there was no response another wave of nausea surged up his throat. He grew impatient and decided to climb up through the shattered lantern room. He flew up and landed on a space where there wasn’t any glass. He may be made of stone, but he was still susceptible to injury. He curved his wings closer to himself, so he wouldn’t cut his wings on the broken windows. He saw the broken lens and instantly knew what was wrong. He skipped past the broken shards and the metal pieces. He made it to the stairs and closed the hatchet sealing the storm to the outside. The stairs were wet as he made his way down, “Y/N! Where are you!”

He heard a groan and whine coming from my room. He sped over to the room leaving foot prints of his feet as he flung open my door. “Y/n!”

I looked towards the sound using all the energy I had left groaning at the dark figure coming towards me.

He could see the veil of death lingering close in my eyes, reaching out its sickly hand towards me asking for me to travel with them to the next life. The normal sparkle in my eyes felt like it was glossing over as cataracts. The part of me that he always looked forward to seeing, the part of me that he loved was draining right in front of him. He’s seen this face once before, the night when he first met me.

My face was already sinking in, and I felt true cold for the first time. I felt like my veins were circulating ice. I mouthed out when I saw a blurry, dark figure approaching, “Jimin?”

He rushed over and scooped me up into his arms cradling me to his chest, “Hold on y/n! Hold on. I’ll protect you.”

I breathed shakily against his bare chest, “Jimin.”

He had to act fast. He picked me up and brought me to the living room and set me down on the couch. He pulled off every candle I owned and put them on the coffee table. He opened the stone stove (that was his before) up and tossed in all the logs I had. He grabbed paper and a few other flammable objects and tossed them in as well. He found a box of matches in the cutlery drawer. His hands were trembling as he struck the match, but it didn’t light, and the weak wooden sticks cracked against his brutal strength. He growled and picked out another and struck the phosphorus tip against the grate. Finally, the match caught light and he tossed it in on the papers. He felt like it wasn’t enough, so he lit up a few more and tossed them on the wood. He blew into the furnace and until the logs were fiery amber he closed the hatch.

He turned around and lit up the ten candles too. He crawled over to me. I was sweating, eyes closed as I reclined against the couch. He took my cheeks gently between his hands, “Y/N, please, please, come back to me. Protect all the light in here, protect it!”

I took a deeper breath and look towards him, “Protect the light in this room, please, they need you. I need you!”

I could feel the warmth building in the room and the ice crystals in my blood melting. I took a deep breath like it was first, finally feeling the bit of weight off my chest. I heavily blinked towards Jimin. I focused on the worried face of Jimin, his grey hair stuck to his forehead and water was still dripping off of him. His eyes were brimming with tears at the edge, I could tell he was holding them back. I weakly reached up and covered his hand with mine and smiled.

He heaved a sigh in relief, the weight of the world finally falling off his shoulders. He could see the sparks coming back to life in my eyes. He gathered me in his arms, even his wings coming to cover around us. He squeezed me tight, “I need you close to me. I can’t do this long distance anymore. I can’t live in fear wondering if you made it through the day. I don’t want to ever feel like this again.”

I giggled and lazily wrapped around my arms around him, “Okay.” I wanted to be near him just as much, I didn’t want to be on two separate islands anymore. It killed me when he left. I wanted us to be one.

He didn’t let me go instead he turned around and sat me in his lap while he rested his chin on my head. He stroked my arm until he was calm. I could feel the erratic heart beat in his chest. He watched as my hair lit up as life was slowing coming back to me. He hummed the words, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey…,”against my hair. It was the song he had heard me singing countless times.

I turned in his lap, tears brimming in my eyes, to face him and he returned the smile. I caressed his cheeks and pushed the matted hair off his forehead. I could never get tired of looking at this face, maybe it wasn’t the horizon I was looking at this whole time, but it was him. I never felt more at home than when I was with him.

I looked at his plump lips and followed his tongue licking his lips. I whispered out his name and he leaned in closer whispering mine back. I leaned up slightly to meet him halfway for a sweet kiss. We leaned our foreheads against one another. When our lips met he felt it down his spine, an electrical response just as I had. His eyes slowly opened to watch mine. Sparks within them are flickering like fireworks going off. He leans back in and gently captures my lips for another brief kiss. He remembered the first time he felt warmth, and every time after that when you touched him it was indescribable.

I pulled away to catch my breath, my hand was on Jimin’s cheek. I opened my eyes and his were still closed. He was unmoving. I panicked, “Jimin? Jimin!” He eyes remained closed. Was the light too much for him? Did I turn him into a statue? “Jimin!”

His wings shivered when my syrupy voice called him and his eyes busted open, “Am I dreaming?”

I choked on a surprised laugh, “No, this—it’s very much real.”

He smiled, “Sunshine, my Sunshine.”

His lips chased mine again and I caught myself giggling. As long I had had him by my side I know everything was going to be okay.

While the storm was wavering in the darkness outside, but inside, in this little room inside the tower, the light will never die out as long as the Gargoyle is there.

A lighthouse never dies.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Posted on Tumblr on 10/31/2018:[The Last Light Keeper](https://magicalsalamander.tumblr.com/post/179629696642/the-last-light-keeper%22)


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